Sweet Home London
by Slow Dancing In A Burning Room
Summary: Sweet Home Alabama meets Hogwarts, starring Hermione as Melanie, Ron Weasley as Jake, and Viktor Krum as Andrew, with the help of other characters. Don’t understand? Go see the movie.
1. The Proposal

Title: Sweet Home London  
  
Summary: Sweet Home Alabama meets Hogwarts, starring Hermione as Melanie, Ron Weasley as Jake, and Viktor Krum as Andrew, with the help of other characters. Don't understand? Go see the movie.  
  
Author: The one, the only, Yelak.  
  
A/N:I've seen the movie Sweet Home Alabama a million times, and this idea for a fanfic came to mind. Don't hurt me; it's all in good fun. It starts out basically word-for-word, but that's just because I love the beginning.  
  
Disclaimer:Yes, I own all of these characters. XD Just kidding. J.K. Rowling is the mastermind behind them, and the plot is from Sweet Home Alabama. I'm just combining the two.  
  
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"Answer the question!" shouted an eleven-year-old, gangly, freckled face boy with fiery red hair, running across the front lawn of Hogwarts, rain pouring onto his head. The sound of rain splattering against the lake was clearly audible.  
  
"No!" replied a bushy-haired girl with rather large front teeth, slowing to a stop a few feet from a large apple tree.  
  
"No you won't answer, or no you won't marry me?" The redhead caught up to her and looked her in the eyes. Opening her mouth, the little girl started to speak but was droned out by the sound of thunder rumbling overhead then lightning crashing directly by the old tree. She shrieked and headed back to the castle, but the boy caught her arm.  
  
"Not that way, you prat!" He led her over to the tree and bent over. "We'll be safe here. Lightning never hits the same place twice."  
  
"Says who?" The girl shot back, putting her hands on her hips.  
  
"Says everyone," he replied casually, smiling. "So will you marry me?"  
  
"Ron Weasley, I'm eleven years old and in the top of my classes! I have way too much to live for! And what do you want to marry me for, anyway?" The girl stared into his eyes.  
  
He shook his hair out of his eyes, and began to lean in. "So I can kiss you any time I want." Their lips had just connected when....  
  
BOOM!  
Hermione Granger awoke with a start; thunder roaring in the distance. She glanced around at the Ministry, where she worked, and began hurriedly shuffling papers together. "Why did you guys let me sleep? I've got to hand these in!" Her English accent had vanished ages ago, about the time she moved to Bulgaria with Viktor.  
  
"Relax," one of her employees told her from a desk not far from hers, "it was only five minutes."  
  
"Yeah, five minutes of time I could've used to revise these!" Her now straight hair seemed to be piled on top of her head, as she looked over the papers. She couldn't help but smile though, revealing her now perfectly aligned teeth. "I can feel it; this is our big day." She successfully lifted the folder into the air.  
  
"It's your big day, not ours. I just supply the quills," said another employee, smiling as he brandished a quill in her hands.  
  
"Thank you," Hermione said, smiling as she turned in the papers and began to journey the short walk home. "See you guys tomorrow!"  
  
When she finally unlocked the door of her flat in London, she saw hundreds of Chocolate Frogs hopping around all over the floor, croaking slightly.  
  
"Viktor!" she breathed, picking a frog up and examining it. A large and elegant pure white owl perched on her sofa, looking rather important. The owl hooted softly, and held out its leg. A frilled piece of parchment was attached, with 'Hermione' scrawled across the front.  
  
"'My dearest Hermione,'" she read aloud, smiling from ear to ear, "'There is a Chocolate Frog for each and every time my heart ached for you last night. How sweet!" she cooed, taking a small nibble of one of the frog's back legs before she continued reading the card. "'I've got to work late tonight, so I thought maybe take you for a quick, surprise dinner, if you haven't any objections. I'll have Rupert pick you up around 8. See you soon love. Sincerely yours, Viktor.' Well, if that isn't the most precious thing." she smiled, and began to get ready for her night.  
  
Sometime later than night, Rupert escorted Hermione to a rather odd sort of car. It was a bright, misty turquoise color, and looked rather old but extremely well taken care of. The seats inside were pure leather, so Hermione sat quite comfortably on the ride. The car somewhat reminded her of the one Ron and Harry Potter, another old acquaintance of hers, had driven straight into a vicious tree and ended in nearly expulsion. She tried to push that thought out of her mind. Ron was old news.  
  
"Have you heard anything from Viktor, Rupert?" Hermione called to the driver, who was also a good friend of hers.  
  
"Just what he's told me, and ordered not to repeat. Especially to you," Rupert teased, glancing at her from the front seat.  
  
"Rupert!" she cried, pouting a bit. Rupert said nothing more though; he looked relatively sworn to secrecy.  
  
"Where're we going?" Hermione asked him, watching her flat grow smaller in the distance from the corner of her eye.  
  
"I'm afraid that's confidential, ma'am." He grinned mischievously, and continued driving until they reached a jewelry store, a beautiful building on the outskirts of town, called Jules' Jewelry.  
  
"What-what-?" Hermione said, one eyebrow furrowed and looking extremely perplexed.  
  
"He asked me to take you inside, so you don't get lonely," explained Rupert, holding the door open for her. She climbed out and allowed Rupert to lead her inside, still fully baffled.  
  
"There you are, Hermione," Viktor said with a deep Bulgarian accent (he had long ago learned to say her name, and his English had improved greatly though he remained in Bulgaria) from a hallway, dressed much too formally for a dinner. She felt rather silly; being dressed casually and standing next to Viktor who looked spiff and clean. His thick black eyebrows and dark unruly hair made Hermione fall in love with Viktor Krum all over again. He was in the prime of his Quidditch days, Viktor was, and earned quite enough to live on and afford extra treats.  
  
"Viktor, what is this about?" She questioned, but Viktor motioned for her to be quiet as he took her arm and led her into a fairly darkened room. Surely the store was closed by now, so what were they doing inside?  
  
"I have a surprise for you." And with that, the lights flickered on, revealing a number of rings cast on countertops, glimmering brightly.  
  
"Oh, my stars." She whispered, glancing around. Viktor positioned himself on one knee, and took her hand in his.  
  
"Hermione, I have long wanted to ask you this." He looked rather pleased.  
  
"Oh, my stars!" She repeated, feeling out of place and staring at Viktor.  
  
"Will you marry me?"  
  
'Oh my stars' seemed to be the only thing Hermione could murmur. She couldn't believe this.  
  
"Hermione. Will you marry me?" He repeated, not angry with her for looking so shocked.  
  
"Well.well.yes! Yes, I will!" She broke into a giant grin and flung herself around Viktor's neck.  
  
Indicating the rings, he smiled and told her, "Pick one. Pick five!" Seeming out of breath, she smiled and surveyed each and every ring, but one word kept pushing itself into her head, no matter how much she exerted to get it out. It dug a hole in her mind, freeing memories she had long ago buried. Just that one word. Ron.  
  
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A/N: Now was that great or was that great? Heh, tell me yourself. Yes, I realize it's nearly exactly the same as Sweet Home Alabama, but I was sorta intending that. Good? Keep going? Just press that little 'Submit Review' over there to the left and leave a cheerful message. Flames allowed, too. Constructive criticism wanted. If you've never seen Sweet Home Alabama, either watch it or just enjoy this story. Chapter 2 coming soon. Peace out. 


	2. Back to The Burrow

Title: Sweet Home London  
  
Summary: Sweet Home Alabama meets Hogwarts, starring Hermione as Melanie, Ron Weasley as Jake, and Viktor Krum as Andrew, with the help of other characters. Don't understand? Go see the movie.  
  
Author: The one, the only, Yelak.  
  
A/N: Chapter 2 is up! Celebrate! Mm, I should hope you've read chapter 1 if you're reading this so.enjoy!  
  
Disclaimer: Yes, I own all of these characters. XD Just kidding. J.K. Rowling is the mastermind behind them, and the plot is from Sweet Home Alabama. I'm just combining the two.  
  
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"My father's waiting for us at the Ministry," Viktor informed Hermione when they were snuggled back in the car, relaxing in each other's arms. "I can't wait to tell him the good news!"  
  
Hermione's chocolate brown eyes grew wide. "Tell him? Er- don't you think we should wait a bit?" She began squirming nervously.  
  
"Wait? Why?" He eyed her suspiciously. "You aren't ashamed of me, are you?" Backing off a bit, he looked a bit insulted.  
  
"No! No, that's not it. It's just, my parents are Muggles as you know and I think that, um, maybe we should tell them instead of letting them hear on the news," Hermione quickly made up an excuse.  
  
"Well, all right. We shall write them a letter, then?" Viktor searched the car for a scrap piece of parchment and a quill.  
  
Hermione began to truly start blushing, as she said in a shy and quiet voice, "Actually, if you don't mind, I would like to tell them in person. Alone, that is."  
  
Viktor finally smiled knowingly. "Is it because I'm Bulgarian?" He teased, wagging his full eyebrows at her.  
  
"Well, that," said Hermione more calmly, "and a Quidditch player."  
  
The car finally stopped at the Ministry, where mobs of eager reporters were crowded, large cameras permanently attached to their hands.  
  
"What's going on here, anyway?" Viktor asked, smiling falsely for the cameras as he and Hermione emerged from the old car. He waved halfheartedly to one over-enthused reporter waved a microphone and camera in his face.  
  
"Some big uncovering, or something. Not very exciting," Hermione whispered, the same fake smile as Viktor's plastered on her face.  
  
"Miss Granger, Miss Granger!" A skinny, young girl with square, jeweled glasses called to her in a squeaky tone. She looked unnervingly like Rita Skeeter, an annoying journalist that pestered everyone back when she was at Hogwa- Wait; don't say it, she told herself. She raised her eyebrows politely at the girl.  
  
"Sources say you're engaged to Quidditch star-a rather handsome one at that-Viktor Krum! Do you have a comment?" She waved the microphone forward and every other reporter fell silent. Hermione's face dropped as she looked to Viktor for help.  
  
Coming to the rescue, he guided her forward with the strength of an athlete, away from the reporters and over to Viktor's father, who happened to be Hermione's boss. "Hullo, Father," Viktor greeted him warmly. "You remember Hermione?"  
  
"Of course I do!" The pudgy man boomed, laughing excitedly. "Read your report on Bedwarths today. Loved it! Brilliant, it was!"  
  
Hermione found herself blushing rather excitedly. "Did you-did you really?" Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes gleaming. She quickly hugged Viktor to release a bit of the excitement. She extended a hand to him to shake. He took it rather placidly, but stopped dead when he felt something on her hand.  
  
"Viktor . . . Miss Granger here seems to be wearing quite the ring on quite the finger," he said, not letting go of her hand and staring rather intently.  
  
"Er, Mr. Krum, if you don't mind I'd rather not say anything about-"  
  
"You've gone and gotten engaged? What WOULD your mother say?!" Shouted Viktor's father, no longer happy or excited. Instead, he looked livid.  
  
"This," finished Hermione, as more than one cameras were flashed eagerly at her. Viktor turned to the cameras, speechless, as his picture was taken a number of times.  
  
Hermione sat silently in a silver car, driving down old familiar roads. She had hoped to never return here, but right now she had no other choice. She was to be married to Viktor in a matter of days- and unless she was mistaken, it was quite illegal to have more than one husband. Yes, she reminded herself, he was still her husband, no matter how much she hated it. For the past seven years, he had declined the bills of divorcement but why? Why? It's not like they cared for each other anymore, so then why wouldn't he divorce her?  
  
She looked at the large manors that she drove by, and sighed sadly. There was the old Malfoy manor. What had become of Draco Malfoy, anyway? He was probably still as filthy rich as ever. She could just imagine him; much older but still as snobby, strolling around lazily while his servants did the work with his nose in the air.  
  
The manors she was passing no were no longer manors; they seemed to get smaller and smaller with every mile. Finally, she turned onto a desolate road, and continued on the path for a short while. Then she saw it: the old crooked building with many chimneys, looking unstable as ever. She reckoned Ron hadn't done the slightest bit of housework since he had gained The Burrow years ago.  
  
A tiny tawny owl began fluttering in front of Hermione excitedly, flapping its wings a million times per minute. She tried to shoo it away, but it remained there, squawking and carrying on. At last the old wooden door of the house swung open, and a tall, redheaded man stepped out, looking annoyed. "Go away, bird," he yelled at the owl rather crankily. "Damn owl hasn't delivered a letter in ages," he explained to the stranger before him. "Now, how can I help you?" He was exactly as Hermione remembered him. He had the same goofy red hair plastered to his head, the same long nose and skinny frame, the same ridiculous British accent, and the same number of freckles-actually they might have doubled even.  
  
"You can give me a divorce right now, Ron Weasley," Hermione said sternly, crossing her arms. Ron's jaw dropped in astonishment. "I mean it. The joke is over."  
  
Looking to the sky as though for help, Ron began cursing. "'Mione?" he said, raising an eyebrow.  
  
"Don't call me that. My name's Hermione," she told him, narrowing her eyes and a bit of Bulgarian reflecting in her words.  
  
Ron put his hand on his hips and half-laughed/half-snorted. "Well aren't you just a Bulgarian bitch?"  
  
"I mean it, Ron, I want to get back to Bulgaria as soon as I can. Just sign the damn papers!" Hermione cried, looking rather annoyed.  
  
"No, I don't think I will," he said stubbornly. The miniscule owl had once again flown over, clicking its beak together and hooting hyperactively.  
  
"Shut up, Pigwidgeon!" Hermione shouted, just as Ron said, "Shut up, Mindelay!"  
  
"What . . . what happened to Pig?" Hermione said, looking startled.  
  
"He died. You were gone," Ron told her gloomily, turning and walking back to the Burrow.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione shrieked, but Ron paid no heed to her. He slammed the door shut and Hermione could hear the soft click of the door locking. "Stubborn-ass," Hermione muttered as she went out back to a small shed and retrieved one of the few of her belongings she had left behind.  
  
Opening the refrigerator, Ron grabbed a butterbeer and muttering to himself. He held it to his lip and chugged the bottle, before something caught his eye. The front door was open wide, even though he was positive he locked it.  
  
"Hey, genius. It's kinda hard to lock someone out who has a key to the house," Hermione called from the couch, smirking.  
  
Exhaling sharply, Ron retorted, "That's the thing about spare keys. It'd be nice if I knew where it was! And by the way, you do know you're breaking and entering, eh? Last time I checked, that's against the law." He snatched up a quill, piece of parchment, and Mindelay the owl in his hands and went into a bedroom.  
  
"Ron!" Hermione screamed, infuriated. But she got no reply, so she instead parked herself on the couch, clutching the bill of divorcement in her hands.  
  
"So you're familiar with the Minister of Magic over there, eh?" Ron asked a short while later, emerging from the bedroom.  
  
"Yes," she snapped, not wanting to stay and talk.  
  
Smirking, he said, "Familiar with ours?"  
  
A loud knocking on the front door jerked Hermione's head up. "You called the Minister? Ron!" She was just about to make for the back door when . . .  
  
"Well, if it isn't the smart Hermione Granger," said a familiar British voice from behind her. She whirled around immediately when he spoke.  
  
"Harry?!" she cried, and threw her arms around Harry Potter's neck. Harry hadn't changed much, except for the fact he was older and not boyishly built anymore. He still had thick, black frames hanging over the ridge of his nose, and his jet-black hair was as untidy as ever. He still also had the scar aligned on his forehead, illustrating a tragic night long ago, which ended in the death of his parents. His green eyes were glimmering as he smiled in a friendly manner at her. "You're the new Minister?! Ooh, congratulations!"  
  
"Sure am," he grinned, putting her down. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Ron rolling his eyes impatiently. Putting on a straight face, he told her, "Now, Hermione, even though you're a nuisance, you can't go 'round breaking into other peoples' houses," he explained.  
  
"I didn't break in! I used my key!" She demonstrated her key to Harry.  
  
"It's still not your house, 'Mione." She didn't even both to correct him.  
  
"Well, get him to sign these and I'll leave. Honestly, Harry's, he's as stubborn as a mule!"  
  
"What exactly're those papers?" Much to Ron's distaste, he looked over the papers with a puzzled look. "A bill of divorcement? You mean . . . you guys are still married?" He looked at Ron, surprised.  
  
Opening his mouth, Ron began to say something but Hermione cut him off by saying, "Unfortunately, yes. And he won't sign them!"  
  
"Well, there's nothing here I can do, Ron. It's not against the law . . . you guys are obviously still married, so this is her house, too. I'll see you soon, I hope?" He asked Hermione, smiling rather sadly.  
  
Hermione shook her head. "I'm leaving soon if I can't get Ron to sign these papers!"  
  
"Well, I'll just leave you two to it, then." Hugging Hermione once more, he whispered in her ear, "It was great seeing you." He apparated off, after winking at Ron.  
  
"Sign the papers, Ron!" Hermione shouted as soon as Harry was gone.  
  
"I'll tell you what. You go and see your family, whom I'm sure you haven't seen in ages, and then we'll talk. Got it?" Ron looked serious.  
  
Hermione sighed heavily and muttered something. "Whatever," she said and walked out the front door.  
  
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A/N: Whee, this is fun! Like the story? Like the movie? Click that button over on the left and tell me! I know, it's basically the same as Sweet Home Alabama, but it's still fun, no? Leave me a good message, or a flame, or criticism; I don't care! Chapter 3 heading your way as soon as I get off my lazy arse and write it. 


	3. Reminder of London

Title: Sweet Home London  
  
Summary: Sweet Home Alabama meets Hogwarts, starring Hermione as Melanie, Ron Weasley as Jake, and Viktor Krum as Andrew, with the help of other characters. Don't understand? Go see the movie.  
  
Author: The one, the only, Yelak.  
  
A/N: Heeeeere's . . . chapter 3! Excited, aren't you? Seen the movie yet? Good. Anywho, I Love reviews so.*hint hint* Have fun.  
  
Disclaimer: Yes, I own all of these characters. XD Just kidding. J.K. Rowling is the mastermind behind them, and the plot is from Sweet Home Alabama. I'm just combining the two.  
  
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"Hi, honey! Oh, it's so good to see you! How's everything in Bulgaria? How're things with you and that cute little Quoddetch player?" Hermione's mum cried, pulling Hermione into a tight embrace, and completely pronouncing 'Quidditch' wrong. Her father followed, patting Hermione warmly on the back with a wide smile.  
  
"Things are fine, Mum. It's good to see you, too," Hermione said warily, heading inside, and only wanting to see the inside of her eyelids at the moment. She headed for her old bedroom, weighed down by the weight of stress on her shoulders.  
  
"Would you listen to that accent?" Mrs. Granger squealed to her husband, one hand clamped over her heart. Hermione grimaced and put her things down, hiding her engagement ring behind her back. "Have you seen Ron, 'Mione? He's turning into quite the young man." Her mother grinned with pride of her son-in-law.  
  
"My starts, Mum, can't we talk about something other than Ron?"  
  
"Yeah, now look here honey," said her father, leading her over to a recliner chair, and motioning for her to have a seat. Just to humor him, Hermione sat down tamely. Mr. Granger gripped the stick in both hands, and then pulled it back. Hermione and the chair both flew backwards, leaving Hermione shrieking with a bad feeling in her gut. Her father guffawed loudly and pushed it back forwards. She was thrust out of the chair and onto the ground.  
  
"Isn't that great?" Mr. Granger asked, holding his stomach from laughter.  
  
Panting, Hermione replied half-heartedly, "There are hardly words." She hated Muggle chairs at the moment.  
  
((AN: Now, I know I took that directly from the movie, but it's such a great part, don't you think?))  
  
Hermione's mother returned from the other room, two tickets for The Knight Bus clenched in her hands. She handed the tickets to Hermione and said, "Now, there's your tickets back."  
  
Glancing over them, Hermione replied, "But I gave them for you to use, Mum. So you could visit me in Bulgaria sometime."  
  
"Well, Bulgaria really isn't our style, dear," Mrs. Granger told her calmly, smiling. Hermione's shoulders drooped.  
  
"What exactly is it you want from me?" She cried exasperatedly. "What can I do that will make you happy?"  
  
"Just make yourself happy, love. That's all I want."  
  
"Well, I am happy. I've got a fantastic career, and I'm in love! Really, really in love." For the first time, she flashed the engagement ring on her hand to her awestruck parents.  
  
Her mother unable to speak, her father said absentmindedly, "Honey, why don't you go get us some treacle tarts?" Sighing, Hermione headed to her bed and fell face-first into a heavy sleep.  
  
The next day, Hermione had received an owl from her lawyer back in Bulgaria, and she took the note with her as she made her way to Diagon Alley. There she was, reading over the note and simply strolling down the street when. . .  
  
"Whoo, Lady, do you look good! Don't see many of these British babes around here!" yelled a somewhat familiar Irish voice, although Hermione couldn't place it. She ignored the man and continued walking, head bent over the parchment.  
  
"I reckon you're the prettiest girl in all of London!" the man continued to harass her.  
  
Hermione, having had enough, shouted, "Listen, you big bloke, why don't you kiss my-" she stopped, looking up, and gasped. "Arse!" she finished, all the anger gone. "Seamus! It's so good to see you!" She greeted her formed schoolmate, who had grown into a rather good-looking young man, while flinging her arms around his neck.  
  
"S'great to see you too, Hermione," he said, sighing with content and embracing Hermione warmly. "By the way, I really love your shoes. Doc Martins, right?"  
  
"Very good!" Not even caring how he knew the style of shoes she was wearing, Hermione let go of his neck and backed off, and then said with a smirk, "Don't want to upset the woman in your life." Seamus laughed nervously and avoided eye contact. "There is a woman, right?" continued Hermione.  
  
"Not quite; I can hardly afford myself without having to spend the last of my galleons on some girl," Seamus informed her, blushing.  
  
"What about Lavender? You two were quite close back at school," Hermione pondered.  
  
"Heh, she's the new Care of Magical Creatures professor at Hogwarts," replied Seamus, nodding.  
  
"I see."  
  
"Well, anyway, I need to be getting back to work, but are you going to be around long?" Seamus said, smiling at Hermione.  
  
"Oh, my stars, I hope not. No, I'm just stopping at Gringotts and hoping to leave soon," Hermione said, motioning down the street to Gringotts.  
  
"Okay, well it was lovely seeing you again!" said Seamus, and grinned, before continuing his walk down the street.  
  
Smiling, Hermione made her way to Gringotts. As soon as she entered the building, she was surprised to see. . .  
  
"Ginny? Ginny Weasley? You're working here now?!" cried Hermione, seeing another old friend.  
  
"Hermione! Wow, it's good to see you! And, you know, Bill worked here so I thought I'd keep the tradition alive!" Ginny said, smiling. Her fiery red hair was piled messily on top of her head, which was dotted with freckles. She resembled Ron greatly, mainly because they were brother and sister.  
  
"It surely has been awhile," sighed Hermione, old thoughts of the past drifting into her mind.  
  
"Harry tells me you and Ronnie had quite the rendezvous," giggled Ginny, her cheeks almost as red as her hair.  
  
Hermione opened her mouth, but then stopped and waved a hand around. "Are you and Harry. . .?"  
  
Still continuing to giggle, Ginny nodded and waved her hand out. On that special finger was a small diamond ring. "Of course, it's not from Jules' Jewelry, but you can't always believe what you've read in the Daily Prophet. . ."  
  
Awkwardly, Hermione blushed and stuck her ring in her purse. "Yes. So anyway, I need to get into my-"  
  
"Joint account?" finished Ginny, smiling sweetly.  
  
"S'cuse me?" asked Hermione; surely she hadn't heard right.  
  
"Your joint account! From what Harry says, you and Ron are still married." Ginny smirked.  
  
"Why, yes. Actually we are," said Hermione, grinning quite evilly.  
  
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A/N: Chapter 3 is up. Uh. . . review! What'd ya think? Telllll me. I love getting reviews. So, anywho, watch out for chapter four. Coming soon to a computer near you ;] 


	4. A Talk With Ron

Title: Sweet Home London  
  
Summary: Sweet Home Alabama meets Hogwarts, starring Hermione as Melanie, Ron Weasley as Jake, and Viktor Krum as Andrew, with the help of other characters. Don't understand? Go see the movie.  
  
Author: The one, the only, Yelak.  
  
A/N: Chapter four. Excited, aren't you? Thought so.  
  
Disclaimer: Yes, I own all of these characters. XD Just kidding. J.K. Rowling is the mastermind behind them, and the plot is from Sweet Home Alabama. I'm just combining the two.  
  
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Ron Weasley came home to not the house he had left earlier that day, but a completely different, new one. The walls had been painted, the broken fence had been fixed, and the missing shutters had been replaced. The trash from the front lawn had been removed, and the grass had been cut. The dirty, rusty chairs that once decorated the porch had been exchanged for new, multicolored ones. In general, the house looked a heck of a lot better than it had. Ron hated it.  
  
His first thought was, 'What the. . .' His second though was, 'Who the hell ruined my home?!' Taking a good glance around, he scratched at his unruly red hair fervently. He started for the door, which had been repainted a bright sky-blue. When he reached it, he swung it open, where inside he got an even bigger shock. All of his old, comfortable furniture was missing. New, vivid, dazzling chairs and sofas were resting in their place. And on one of them sat Hermione Granger, grinning like she had just won the Nobel Prize.  
  
"What are you doing? And where is my stuff?" Ron shouted at her, teeth clenched with anger.  
  
Hermione merely shrugged, and hung one leg over the arm of the chair. "Did a bit of shopping today. Have you seen what has become of old Isabella Strainer? Poor dearie. Been to the Leaky Cauldron lately? Ah, they haven't kept it running as quite the place it use to be, have they?" A big, sly smirk was spread across her face, her brown hair piling around her shining eyes.  
  
"'Mione, I'll ask you one more time! Where is my stuff?!" Ron bellowed, not even listening to the things Hermione was saying. Hermione didn't mind of course; she was enjoying this.  
  
"I had the sweetest talk with Harry today. I'm really happy for him, aren't you?" A bit of that old British was audible in her words. She didn't bother to smother I;, instead she spoke freely.  
  
"Nice to see you got your accent back," commented Ron, bustling into the kitchen angrily. "Agh!" Hermione heard his voice, echoing off the kitchen walls. "Where's the butterbeer?"  
  
"Ronnie, you know that stuff's much too fattening. I picked up some pumpkin juice instead," Hermione replied, following him into the kitchen.  
  
"You go 'head and spend your own money then, 'Mione." Grumbling, he snatched a bottle of pumpkin juice and held it to his lips, taking a long drink.  
  
"But, love, don't you think we should think of it as. . .our money?" Hermione grinned.  
  
Ron's eyes grew wide, as he slowly chugged the entire drink. And then pulling it down, he asked hoarsely, "How much did you take?"  
  
"All of it," Hermione replied sweetly.  
  
"You bastard!" Ron shouted, hurling the bottle halfway across the room, and watching it hit the wall and shatter into a million pieces.  
  
"You want me as your wife? Well you got me!" Hermione replied, just as angrily. She wanted a divorce, and she wanted it now. "And what are you doing with all that cash anyway?"  
  
"Get out of my house, right now!" Ron demanded, pointing a long finger to the front door.  
  
"Sign the papers and I will!" Hermione shoved the Bill of Divorcement papers at him one more time.  
  
"Fine! Give me a quill."  
  
"Hang on, what're you doing with all that money? And since when don't you work at Zonko's anymore?" Hermione inquired, the quill still clutched in her hands.  
  
"Look, I don't ask you about you fiancé, famous Viktor Krum, so stay outta my personal life," Ron snapped, grabbing the quill.  
  
"Who told you?" Hermione asked, barely above a whisper. Her anger immediately flew away as she caught site of a battered old wand, the one that had snapped in Ron's second year at Hogwarts. She laughed softly. "I remember the day you and Harry flew the car to Hogwarts."  
  
"You know, not all of us Wizards are as stupid as you think," Ron told her, taking a seat on the brand new couch.  
  
"Ron, look. . ."  
  
"Nobody finds their life love when they're eleven years old," Ron went on, chuckling. "I mean, that's no fun."  
  
"Yeah, I reckon." Hermione's anger immediately flew away as she caught site of a battered old wand, the one that had snapped in Ron's second year at Hogwarts. She laughed softly. "I remember the day you and Harry flew the car to Hogwarts."  
  
"Mhm," Ron said absentmindedly, looking over the papers. "Oh, hey wait, 'Mione. I just remembered; I've got a date tonight."  
  
"W-what?" Hermione said, taken aback. "But-"  
  
"You don't mind if I have my lawyer glance over these, do you? I reckon I, being a dumb ol' wizard, can't even pronounce some of these words in here. For all I know, you could be robbing me of everything I own," Ron said, grinning, as he went to his room to change.  
  
"Robbing you? Ha." Hermione scowled, wishing he would just sign the goddamn papers and get it over with. She wanted to go home. She needed Viktor. But she decided she would follow Ron, and maybe have somewhat of a good time.  
  
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A/N: ok, so there's chapter four! I did four and five at the same time, so keep on reading! And don't forget to review! 


	5. At the Bar

Title: Sweet Home London  
  
Summary: Sweet Home Alabama meets Hogwarts, starring Hermione as Melanie, Ron Weasley as Jake, and Viktor Krum as Andrew, with the help of other characters. Don't understand? Go see the movie.  
  
Author: The one, the only, Yelak.  
  
A/N: Chapter four. Excited, aren't you? Thought so.  
  
Disclaimer: Yes, I own all of these characters. XD Just kidding. J.K. Rowling is the mastermind behind them, and the plot is from Sweet Home Alabama. I'm just combining the two.  
  
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Ron led her to the Three Broomsticks, a bar in Hogsmeade in which is mom worked at. As soon as she got out of the car, though, a large owl hooted and fluttered around her head. Finally, she thought, a note from Viktor. Opening it carefully, she read to herself: 'My loving Hermione; I have some terrific news to tell you. I just opened the Daily Prophet, and what's the first thing I see? "Hermione Granger, authoress of the newly proclaimed article, "Bedwarths of the North", has just been nominated as Employee of the Year."' Congratulations, dear, and I hope to see you soon. Much love, Viktor.'  
  
Hermione's jaw dropped as she let out a giggle in spite of herself. Employee of the Year?! Her?! She'd been working at this for as long as she could remember, long before she even was employed. "Wow," Hermione said, her spirits now soaring and in a great mood. She entered the bar with her bar held high.  
  
"If it isn't my favorite daughter-in-law!" squealed a familiar voice, belonging to a tall redheaded woman. It was Ron's mother.  
  
"Soon to be ex-daughter-in-law," she corrected, showing Molly Weasley the ring on her finger.  
  
"Wow," swooned Mrs. Weasley, "isn't that gorgeous? Who's the lucky guy?"  
  
"Er. . .Viktor Krum, the Quidditch player," Hermione answered sheepishly.  
  
"I see. Well, I've got to get working, but you enjoy yourself. And you," Mrs. Weasley pointed a long fingernail at the bartender, "you get this lady whatever she wants."  
  
Hermione smiled politely, and ordered a drink. Before long, she heard from behind, "Hermione?!" She turned to see who had said her name.  
  
A giggling, brown-haired girl stood before her, about her age. It took Hermione a few seconds before asking amazedly, "Lavender?" Lavender Brown? Could it be?  
  
"Yes! You know, I read your article-thingy about Bedwarths or- or something like that," Lavender giggled. She never was the brightest bulb in the batch. "It was really good, even though I didn't understand it all."  
  
"Yes, my. . .article-thingy," Hermione winced, but was happy to see her nevertheless. After a short but sweet conversation with Lavender, Hermione wandered towards the back of the bar, where Seamus, Dean (Another Hogwarts friend of Hermione's), Ron, and Ron's date were seated. Ron's date was a pretty, skinny, blonde-haired girl, looking quite smug yet air headed. Hermione wandered over.  
  
"You must be Ron's date," she said sweetly. "I'm Ron's bitchy Bulgarian wife whom he refuses to divorce, even though I'm engaged to another man." Ron rolled his eyes, while his date smiled.  
  
"I'm Suzie," replied the date, her accent very strong. She just sat there and grinned and grinned. Ron hurriedly put an arm around her.  
  
"Do you like me embarrassing you in front of all your friends?" Hermione hissed.  
  
"Oh, come on Hermione. We've always been your friends too," Seamus interjected.  
  
Suddenly, two deep, easily-recognizable voices boomed out from behind, "Well, if it isn't Hermione Granger!" and "Simply chalking to see you!"  
  
Hermione whirled around, seeing two redheaded men, both with freckles and looking a little like Ron. They were his older twin brothers, Fred and George Weasley.  
  
"Hey Fred?" George called, smirking.  
  
"Yeah, George?"  
  
"I'm kind of cold. How about you?"  
  
"Yeah, freezing." The two men, grinning, hurled them selves at Hermione with a final comment of, "Time for a Hermione bla-anket!" Hermione found herself in the middle of them, them squeezing her between themselves.  
  
Everyone around them began laughing. "Stop! Stop it!" She shoved them away, scowling. "No! No Hermione blanket! No Hermione cover, and no Hermione bed! Got it?!"  
  
"Yeah, sorry," the twins said slowly, looking deeply offended but backing off. Everyone else raised an eyebrow.  
  
"Are you guys just going to sit and talk all day, or are we going to play some darts?" asked Seamus, several blue darts clutched in his hands. "And if you can't find any darts, just use the ones shoved up her arse." Everyone but Hermione laughed.  
  
Across the room, a desolate target was hung on the wall. Groups of people were surrounding the gang, cheering them all on.  
  
{{A/N: In case you did not know, darts is really popular in London.))  
  
George grinned and retrieved the red darts, stepping up to the line. "Now you watch me teach these guys how to lose at darts, 'Mione." The other guys snorted.  
  
"I don't know, George. I'm not exactly the watching kind of girl. Isn't that right, Ron?" Hermione replied moodily.  
  
Everyone let out another loud laugh. Ron simply glared. A few hours and many drinks later, Hermione was stumbling around the room, giggly and definitely drunk. Empty cups were cluttered all around her. Everyone was still having a great time, until finally, it was just Fred and Ron left, with the game winning shot left.  
  
"C'mon, Ron!" Everyone cheered, as he squinted at his target. "Now, we need that perfect toss that won us the house cup in our fifth year, Ron!" yelled George, and everyone began cheering like crazy. "Remember that night, 'Mione?"  
  
"Of course I do," she half-giggled, half-snapped. "It was the night Ron and I made out."  
  
Everyone laughed, but Ron said angrily, "Go print it why don't you?!"  
  
"Oh, come off it Ron. No one here can keep a secret." She paused, and turned to Seamus. "Except Seamus." A laugh was audible throughout the room. Seamus' eyes grew wide, begging her to stop.  
  
"What'd I do to you?" He asked weakly.  
  
"Nothing, love! You never did anything to me! In fact, I don't believe you ever did anything to any girl!" Another laugh rose, though some were confused laughs.  
  
"Hermione! What's the matter with you?" Dean snapped irritably, wanting her to shut up and not expose his best friend's secret. He was one of the few who knew.  
  
"Ah, well, it's fine. She's simply upset. Of course, I would be too, if I were wearing those last season shoes," Seamus said, not knowing how much of a mistake he had just made. There were weak laughs scattered about.  
  
"Why don't you just go to a gay bar?" Hermione replied, and the room went deathly silent. Seamus' eyes were as round as quarters, his jaw dropped halfway to the floor. Ron and Dean glared at her threateningly.  
  
"What in the good lord's name would Seamus ever do at a gay bar?" laughed Fred, flinging an arm around Seamus' shoulders. He didn't know, of course. Seamus just turned his head at Fred silently and stared. As his laughs grew pathetic, he took his arm away and tilted his head. The same thought was racing through everyone's' mind. Seamus was gay?  
  
"Well," Seamus said in a choked voice, dropping the darts to the ground and listening to them clink against the hard floor, "I reckon I've had enough fun tonight." He left the room without another word.  
  
"I was joking!" Hermione called to his retreating back, and then rounded on Molly. "Got any more of those alcoholic butterbeers for me n' my friends?"  
  
"I think you've had about enough tonight, 'Mione," Molly said slowly.  
  
"Yeah. I have had enough. Did you guys know how much more intelligent Bulgarians are? Wow. . ."  
  
"That's enough!" Ron shouted, and grabbing her by her elbow, dragged her outside.  
  
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A/N: Okay, there's chapter five. What'd ya think? Review, review, review!!!!!! Chapter six coming soon! 


	6. Fights, Talks, and Apologies

Title: Sweet Home London  
  
Summary: Sweet Home Alabama meets Hogwarts, starring Hermione as Melanie, Ron Weasley as Jake, and Viktor Krum as Andrew, with the help of other characters. Don't understand? Go see the movie.  
  
Author: The one, the only, Yelak.  
  
A/N: -Gasp- I'm actually . . . updating this thing?! After seven months! I got inspired while watching Sweet Home Alabama, and therefore chapter six was created. Have fun, and don't forget to review! In this chapter we have the long-awaited fight between Hermione and Ron, then they have a heartfelt discussion, and Hermione apologizes to Seamus. Yes.  
  
Disclaimer: Yes, I own all of these characters. XD Just kidding. J.K. Rowling is the mastermind behind them, and the plot is from Sweet Home Alabama. I'm just combining the two.  
  
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"How dare you!" shouted Ron as soon as they were safely out of the bar.  
  
"It's your own fault!" Hermione shouted back, just about tearing open her purse to find her keys. Ron's already red face grew even redder.  
  
"My fault? MY fault?! You show up, ruin my house, terrorize my friends, and it's all MY fault?!" he yelled, seething with anger. She drunkenly stumbled forward, now holding her keys out and heading towards her car.  
  
"You are pathetic! It's been years! So what if you can't play Quidditch? Try something new. I did," she slurred, opening the door to her car.  
  
"Oh no you don't," he replied, grabbing the keys from her hand and slamming the car door shut. "You want to kill yourself, go back to Bulgaria and do it. Not on my watch." He clutched her shoulders, guiding her to his old beat up truck. "I'm taking you home."  
  
"No, you are not!"  
  
"Get in the truck!"  
  
"Gimme my keys!"  
  
"No!" Ron brought the keys over to Suzie, his date, dropping them in her hand exasperatedly. "Do me a favor and follow us home." She nodded and kissed him on the cheek. Ron smiled and looked up, just in time to see Hermione vomit all over his car. Inwardly, he groaned and his smile dissolved.  
  
~*~  
  
"Evenin', Mrs. Granger. Mr. Granger," Ron said, coming into the door of their home with Hermione in his arms. Hermione's mother sighed at her snoring daughter, who stunk of alcohol.  
  
"Evening, Ron. Thanks for bringing her home," she said, putting her hand on Hermione's head.  
  
"I reckon it's the least I can do," he replied, laying her on her bed and letting her sleep.  
  
Hermione groaned as she woke up, her head throbbing with pain. She rolled over, and her face landed on paper. Though it was difficult, she opened her eyes and through blurry vision, looked at the paper. It was the bill of divorcement she had brought for Ron to sign. Sure enough, "Ron Weasley" was scrawled across the appropriate lines. Finally. Her divorce could be official. But why, oh why, did she feel so sad?  
  
She stood up and walked out into the living room, where her father was standing, in Wizard's clothes, and waving around a (fake, Hermione assumed) wand. Her eyes grew wide. "Daddy, what ARE you doing?" Her father wasn't even a wizard.  
  
He looked up and grinned at her. "I'm participating in a reenactment of the duel between Voldemort and the order. They didn't have enough, so Arthur Weasley called me up and invited me. I thought it would be nice."  
  
"Oh my stars," she mumbled, shutting her eyes. Well, she thought, Harry would be pleased.  
  
~*~  
  
After getting dressed, Hermione knew what she had to do. She needed to talk to Ron. Not wanting to drive and too tired to walk, she quickly Apparated there. Ron was kneeling in front of his old truck, apparently working on it.  
  
"Hi Ron," she said, somewhat shyly, approaching him. He glanced up at her distastefully, but then returned his gaze to his automobile. Her heart gave a strange, unwelcoming flutter.  
  
"Thanks for signing the papers," she said, not taking her eyes off him.  
  
"Mhm."  
  
"I - I put all of the money back into your account," she continued, voice growing meek. Her knees were feeling weak, and that was never a good sign. Not to mention the butterflies pulsating their wings in her stomach.  
  
"Thanks. Saves me a lot of trouble," he finally spoke, straightening up and smiling faintly at her. He walked around to the back of his truck, pitching a treat to Mindelay, who was eagerly fluttering around in its cage.  
  
"It's cute," she offered, motioning to the owl.  
  
"Yeah. It's all right. Pretty annoying." Grabbing the cage, Ron put into the passenger seat and then climbed in on the driver's side. "You know, I actually sort of do like what you did to the burrow."  
  
She smiled, a real genuine smile. "I reckon it'll help it sell quicker," he continued, not looking at her.  
  
"You're moving?"  
  
"I'm thinking about it," he responded. Starting up the engine, he smiled at her too. "Well, bye."  
  
"Where're you going?"  
  
"I dunno." He flashed her a marvelous grin. "Want to come?"  
  
"And risk being thrown in Azkaban with you? Not a chance, you prat," she said sarcastically, referring to the time Ron and Harry had stupidly tried to fly to school, and was spotted by Muggles. He laughed.  
  
"Well, bye then."  
  
"G'bye."  
  
~*~  
  
Hermione's next mission was to visit Seamus, and apologizing to him for spilling his secret to the whole word. When she arrived at his humongous house - or rather mansion, she flushed with guilt. This had been the house she'd told her fiancé and his family that she lived in. She found Seamus on his front porch, reading a book.  
  
"Hermione?" he said, putting down his book with a look on his face that was a mixture between surprise and anger.  
  
"Hi Seamus." She took a deep breath, but chickened out. "What're you reading?"  
  
"Just some book," he said, closing it.  
  
"Your house is really beautiful. I guess I'd forgotten about it when I moved," she said, peering around at the huge house.  
  
"Obviously it doesn't take much to forget a lot of things," he muttered, looking back down at his book.  
  
"You know that's not how it is."  
  
"No. You know what, Hermione? I know how it is. At Hogwarts, we were great friends. But then you leave. It's not just Ron you left, 'Mione."  
  
Hermione's head tilted, so she was staring at the ground. "I'm - I'm really sorry, Seamus. I never meant to out you. It was just, I figured if I put the spotlight on you, well, no one would look at me."  
  
Seamus wasn't sure how to react to that, so he said nothing at all. But he did manage to flash her a very small smile. Hermione relaxed. "I guess I'll let you get back to your book."  
  
"Yeah. Thanks," he replied, and Hermione turn and left.  
  
Click! A camera, with bright lights, flashed right in her eyes. "Who're you?" she demanded the person holding the camera, rubbing at her eyes.  
  
"Name's Timothy Jackstein," he said, reaching out to shake her hand. "I work for the Bulgarian Weekly."  
  
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A/N: Oh, my gosh! I wrote another chapter! I'm trying my best to steer away from the movie plotline, but I dunno how well I'm doing at it. Anywho, please review. Maybe I'll continue this still, if y'all like it. Tell me! Thankya. 


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